


Against All Odds

by fairytale_bliss, getting-by (fairytale_bliss)



Category: Sweeney Todd (2007)
Genre: F/M, Mild Gore, Mild Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-21
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2020-12-27 21:43:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 1,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21125705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairytale_bliss/pseuds/fairytale_bliss, https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairytale_bliss/pseuds/getting-by
Summary: Sweeney Todd and Nellie Lovett's relationship is a complexity driven by many components: revenge, lust, confusion, and perhaps even love. Unrelated short scenes exploring the barber and the baker's relationship.





	1. Lively

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Written between December 2009 and January 2011.

_ Against All Odds _

_ 1\. Lively _

He sits in a darkened corner of the pie shop, watching Mrs. Lovett and the boy with silent disinterest. He twirls his razor slowly in his fingers, thoughts of the Judge, of Lucy, and of Johanna miraculously not in the forefront of his mind but lurking in the shadows.

Mrs. Lovett is attempting to teach Toby to dance. He is clumsy, has no rhythm, but the baker is kind, her encouraging words bringing him confidence.

“That’s it, love!” she says cheerfully when they’ve stumbled around the room a few times. “Now Mr. T’ll demonstrate the next part for ya!”

She looks at him expectantly. He frowns, on the verge of telling her no because he doesn’t want to bloody dance, especially not with _her_, when he surprises himself.

“All right.”

The answer is gruff and strained, but Mrs. Lovett’s face lights up as though he’s declared his undying love for her. Grasping his arm, she pulls him to his feet before her hands snake to his shoulders; he rests his on her waist. Their movements around the room are fluid and natural. Toby stares in awe. Staring into her endless eyes, Todd quickly pushes away the treacherous thought that he’s not felt so alive in months.


	2. Remorseful

_ 2\. Remorseful _

Every day she washes his clothes, prepares his food, gets rid of the evidence for him. Every day he lets her, too consumed by thoughts of revenge to spare a second for her.

She does not complain. Knows, deep down, that this is all she can expect of him, hope for. Benjamin Barker could love. Barker could show emotions other than rage, let everything out in ways not associated with blood.

But Barker is dead, and Sweeney Todd is nothing like the man she’d once loved.

She sometimes wonders why she loves Mr. Todd more.

Humming quietly to herself, she enters the tonsorial parlour and clears her throat. No response. As expected. Placing the tray down, she says loudly, “Anythin’ else you need, Mr. T?”

Slowly, he shakes his head, gaze never moving from the view of Fleet Street below. He will not eat the dinner she has so lovingly prepared for him. He will not acknowledge her presence. He is too lost in the past, drowning in his tortured memories.

She leaves him then, trapped in the dark place he cannot escape.

For the first time in seventeen years, Mrs. Lovett guiltily wishes she’d never fallen so hard for Benjamin Barker.

But only for a guilty moment.


	3. Dismiss

_ 3\. Dismiss _

He paces in front of the window, glaring out at Fleet Street as he mechanically flicks a razor open and closed. No sound can be heard save for the musical creaking of the floorboards beneath him. The silence is bliss.

Then the door is pushed open, and he hears the cheery, “Thought you might be hungry, love, so I’ve brought you some soup…”

He ignores her as he pauses his pacing, contenting himself with sneering at the street below. Mrs. Lovett hums quietly under her breath as she collects his untouched breakfast. He’s so caught up in thoughts of the judge, of Lucy, that he doesn’t hear her speaking until she’s standing right behind him with a hand resting on his shoulder. He freezes at the contact.

“Love? I said is there anythin’ else ya want?”

Her singsong voice is mocking his wallowing ruminations. The feel of her fingers warming his cold skin is wrong. She’s mocking _Lucy_, pretending to be concerned, trying to play the part of the wife she’ll never be.

“Out,” he manages.

“Mr. T…?” She’s confused, but doesn’t step away.

_“Out!”_ he roars, and she flinches as though burned, then sighs dejectedly as she backs slowly away.

If he cared to turn around, he’d see the hurt in her eyes.

But he doesn’t.


	4. Heavy

_ 4\. Heavy _

She finds him slumped against the barber’s chair, staring sightlessly ahead of him. His razor, usually clenched possessively in his fingers, hangs loosely in his limp grasp.

“Mr. T?” she says softly, afraid of disturbing him.

He does not respond.

“Love?” She raises her voice until it’s almost a shout. Still she gets nothing from him.

Cautiously, she enters the room. At times like these he’s unpredictable; she doesn’t know if he’ll spring into life and threaten her with a razor for disturbing him.

She’s by his side now, and after a moment’s hesitation, drops to her knees beside him.

“Mr. Todd?” She lowers her voice once again, accompanying it with a tentative hand on his arm. “Look at me, dear.”

Slowly, dark eyes find dark eyes. Nellie’s widen at the desperately lost expression in his. The turmoil threatens to spill over. She knows he’s on the brink of insanity.

Without a word, she pulls his head to her breast, cradles it. He remains stiff, but he doesn’t pull away. Progress? She hopes so.

Her heart bleeds for him. She knows only too well what it is like for a heavy burden to become too much. She’s carried one of her own for fifteen years. One that he must never find out about. Lucy.

He’s cracking with the pressure of his revenge. But if he lets her, she’ll gladly share his heavy load.


	5. Forward

_ 5\. Forward _

_Look to the future,_she tells herself. _Look forward._

She’s up to her elbows in water. It sloshes over the sides as she dunks the bloody shirt under the surface.

_Mr. Todd taking her to the seaside for a well-deserved break…_

The persistent bloodstain won’t wash out no matter how hard she scrubs.

_Mr. Todd confessing his love for her with the sea rolling gently behind him…_

She mutters obscenities under her breath as the water soaks her dress, making the material cling uncomfortably to her in the heat of the bakehouse.

_Mr. Todd kissing her on the sand…_

“Mrs. Lovett!”

_Mr. Todd taking her hand and showing them their lovely new home…_

He’s purposeful today. She isn’t sure if it’s better than that soul-destroying listlessness. “How am I to welcome customers without a clean shirt? I will not hang from the gallows before I’ve got my hands on the judge!”

_Mr. Todd proposing to her, love in his eyes…_

“This stain is a persistent bugger, Mr. T. I’m tryin’ me ’ardest ’ere, but it just won’t budge! I’ll get it to ya just as soon as I can. Be patient, love.”

_The little church by the sea, with the lovely old priest…_

He growls at her, slamming the door on his way out. Silence echoes.

_Mrs. Lovett, finally Mrs. Todd…_

She imagines Mr. Todd pacing above her head like a caged animal, the floorboards creaking angrily. _The perfect wedding night…_

If she doesn’t repeat this mantra like her life depends on it, she fears she will go mad.

_By the sea, Mr. Todd, that’s the life I covet…._

“Next time,” she promises herself. “Next time.”

Next time, Sweeney Todd will sweep her off her feet and make her dreams come true.

_Just keep lookin’ forward._


	6. Prowl

No one understands the barber. They avert their eyes when he prowls between them, a stalking predator, dark eyes darting as though searching for something. His presence disturbs them slightly, though they have no idea why.

Todd eventually finds unsuspecting prey. He’s a plump gentleman, not too rich, not too poor. Certainly not married.

The chap makes to leave, and Todd pounces. He coaxes the fellow away from his kind with the promise of a free shave, entices him with _the best barber in London_ line.

It’s all too easy.

The man settles himself willingly into the chair, lifts his head, voluntarily exposing his neck while Todd applies the paste. A concise jerk and the warm blood flows freely, spraying the place an intoxicating red. The look of surprise is still etched upon the chap’s features.

Todd takes his time cleaning up, satisfied with his work.

Then the prowling begins again.


End file.
